


Where Are the Storms I Was Promised

by KareliaSweet



Series: Storms [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Descriptions of Canon Typical Violence, Hannibal Odyssey, M/M, Monster Hunters, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9444743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KareliaSweet/pseuds/KareliaSweet
Summary: Will Graham, legendary Monster Hunter, has been summoned to dispatch a most unholy villain.





	

Will is introduced to the Captain first.

He’s a tall man, broad-shouldered with an stern jaw. He would seem imposing, but his eyes are kind. He grasps Will’s hand warmly in his and introduces himself as _Jack_.

Will doubts he’ll remember that. He never remembers any of their names.

The Captain’s assistant is a dark-haired woman with a cane. _Dr. Bloom_ , she says. She smiles pleasantly enough but it doesn’t carry upwards. Her grip is firm and pinching and she leans enough on the cane that he can safely assume her injury is new.

Will laughs when they ask if he’s had experience with such things – or at least he would laugh, if he was still in the practice of it. Instead he grimaces, the vague shadow of a smirk tugging at the right corner of his mouth. He knows most people find that expression to be off-putting, but he’s witnessed too many horrors to find humour at the longevity of his career.

“Well,” Jack says, “I think I should warn you about this one.”

“I don’t need warnings, Mr. Crawford. I’m long past being afraid of the dark.”

“We don’t think you’ll be afraid,” Dr. Bloom says quietly, “It can be very… charming.”

Will eyes the doctor’s cane shrewdly. “Speaking from experience?”

Her hand tightens around the ruby handle at the same time as her jaw clenches. Jack puts a hand at her elbow and shakes his head.

“All the same, Will,” Jack says far too pleasantly, “there are some things you should know.”

Will shoves up his sleeves, baring lines of scars that have varying shades of raw pink to healing white.

“Lycanthropes,” he gestures to his arms, “and hellhounds.”

He unbuttons his top three shirt buttons to show scars of deep twin puncture wounds. “Dhampir,” he says as he points.

Jack and Dr. Bloom remain silent.

“The Red Dragon,” Will says, pointing to his cheek. The scar is mostly hidden by the scruff of his beard, but he knows they clocked it the moment he walked in the door.

“And those are just the ones you can see.”

Will tugs his sleeves back down with a snort, ignoring the way their mouths have gone slack. “I’ve dealt with all of that and worse, so with all due respect, I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

He pats the leather satchel slung over his shoulder in demonstration. Its contents clunk loudly.

Jack nods. “Very well.” He pulls a heavy ring of keys from his pocket and leads Will to the door. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

Will actually rolls his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t just use that line on me. Jesus.”

Jack unlocks the heavily bolted door and pulls it open. “Through here,” he gestures. Together, they walk forward.

“He fed them to us!” Dr. Bloom yells after them. “He didn’t just eat them, _he fed them to us_! He’s a monster!”

Her voice trails off as Jack leads them down the mildewed hallway, damp and stinking of decay. They pass several cells, all empty (save the bones that rot on their floors) until they come to the end of the hall to another locked door.

“Impressive security system,” Will says drily.

Jack turns over his shoulder, his mouth grim. “It ate all our guards.”

He takes another key from the ring and unlocks the second door, then stops for a moment, his hand pressed against the metal.

“This will not be like the others,” Jack murmurs to him, “I don’t know what you’ve seen before but this – this is something blacker than hell.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Will replies, and lets the door creak open.

At the corner of the cell, on a simple wooden chair sits… a man.

“What the fuck is this?”

Will wheels angrily on Jack. “I told you I don’t do hybrids.”

Jack holds up his hands. “It’s not a hybrid.”

“What is it then?”

“It is Hannibal,” the man says calmly.

Will takes a good look at 'Hannibal', at his hands folded in his lap just so. His tweed suit is still remarkably pressed under layers of accumulated dirt. He smiles genteelly at Will, and his eyes glow red.

“Hello, Hannibal.”

Hannibal gracefully holds out a hand. “And you are?”

Will stares at the outstretched hand, unmoving. “Will Graham.”

Hannibal actually looks impressed. “They sent the Fearsome Dragon Slayer? Jack, I’m touched.”

“Don’t speak to me,” Jack grits through his teeth.

Will turns to Jack. “Do you wanna tell me what the fuck is going on here? You called me in to dispatch a fucking human?”

“It’s not human,” Jack insists. “I – I don’t know what it is, but it’s not—“

“I do wish you would stop referring to me as ‘it’, Jack. It’s incredibly rude.”

Jack actually growls. “You don’t deserve-“

“Hey,” Will snaps, “both of you put your dicks away. I’m not here for a pissing contest. Crawford, I really don’t appreciate being brought here under false pretenses.”

“They’re not false, Will. You don’t understand what it’s done.”

“Disembowelment.” Will holds up a finger and begins checking off the list he’d memorized. “Skinning. Dismemberment. Cannibalization. Sculpture and tableaus, bodies disassembled and reassembled like it was – like it was _art_?”

“Oh, it was,” Hannibal murmurs.

“Shut up,” Will says without looking. “You expect me to believe that all of that was done by one human?”

“I can assure you I’m not human.”

“See?” Jack points at him, his eyes wild. “He admits it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he thinks he’s not human. Whatever else, he’s clearly batshit crazy.”

“I resent that,” Hannibal says mildly.

“I don’t really care,” Will replies, then jabs a finger in Jack’s chest. “Give me five minutes. Five minutes with this Hannibal and I’ll know if he’s a monster or not.”

Jack’s eyes narrow. “I can’t leave you alone with him.”

Will smacks the bag over his shoulder sharply. “I’m armed, Crawford. I can handle one goddamn human.”

They stare each other down for a long, tense moment before Jack deflates. “Fine,” he mutters, shoulders slumped. “Five minutes. Then you’ll kill it.”

“I’m not making any promises.” Will crosses his arms. “Let me get proof first.”

Jack shakes his head and creaks the door open. “You’ll get it.”

Will watches the door shut and tightens a hand over his shoulder strap.

“If it helps, I definitely killed those people,” Hannibal says from the corner.

“Oh my God, _shut up_.” Will turns on his heel and crosses the room in two strides, pulling Hannibal up by his lapels.

Hannibal regards him, his red eyes warm and bright. The odd curve of his mouth twitches in a microscopic smile.

“What do you wish to do with me?”

Will snarls and tightens his fists in Hannibal’s jacket. Then he pulls him sharply forward and crushes their mouths together.

Hannibal collapses against him with a moan, his hands grabbing at Will’s hips. Will licks into his mouth, bites at his jaw, paws along his biceps. He clutches closer, running his hands across the slopes and planes of Hannibal's back.

They melt together, fierce and wanting. The room is quiet save for the slick sounds of tongues sliding, the dull hiss of drawn-in breath.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Will rasps into Hannibal’s ear. Hannibal’s arms tighten around him and he kisses Will’s hair.

“Never, my love.”

Will pushes at him then, breaking the kiss but keeping them tight together, one hand slid to Hannibal’s neck so that their skulls press into each other.

“You,” Will says solemnly, “will not leave me again.”

Hannibal’s eyes shift from red to pooling black, and he mirrors their embrace, clasping his own hand at Will’s nape.

“I will not.”

Satisfied, Will releases him with a playful shove. He shakes his head and laughs. “’It is Hannibal’. _Really?_ ”

Hannibal smiles at him fondly. “I've been told I have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth. So, how do we want to do this?”

“Hmm,” Hannibal taps a finger against his chin. “I think the Ravenstag.”

Will’s eyes go a little misty. “My favourite.”

“I know, darling.”

“Right.” Will hoists the bag off his shoulder and lets it drop to the ground with a clatter. A skull rolls out and taps against the wall. “Shall we?”

Hannibal kisses him once more, hot and quick. “Oh yes.”

Will grins, showing the full of extent of his teeth. He rubs the tip of his tongue over a descending fang.

“Beautiful,” Hannibal whispers.

Hannibal bows his head and his body shimmers and ripples, antlers sprouting from his temples as feathers plume along his sides. His arms lengthen, fists molding into hooves as they touch the floor. The Ravenstag shakes out its mane and blinks its smoke-liquid eyes. Will runs his fingers through the feathers and nuzzles the side of Hannibal’s transformed face.

Hannibal preens against him, antlers lowered and prepared to gore.

“Oh, Jack?” Will calls out. “I’m ready to kill!”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey fandom I'm back! Didja miss me? :D
> 
> In all seriousness, I know my absence has been prolonged and I have missed everyone immensely. Hope you enjoyed this small offering and I wish you all love!


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